


Superhero

by clovernose



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, good brother Dave, platonic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 14:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clovernose/pseuds/clovernose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous asked: Bro or Dave, preferable Bro, suffers from intense night terrors. Dave finds this out really young when he wakes up to Bro screaming. Maybe Dave's like, ten? And plays the "big spoon" role to try and comfort Bro.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Superhero

Your name is Dave Strider and you don’t know why, but suddenly you hear screaming.

More specifically, it’s what you know to be your brother’s screaming. You know it has to be his, because as far as you knew, you are the only two people in this apartment right now. And you obviously aren’t screaming. So, you figure that Bro is in danger. Your silly, 10-year-old mind won’t let you think any differently! But then again, you know that Bro is a fearless man. Probably braver than any of those super heroes on Saturday morning cartoons you watch with him from time to time. 

Bro was better than any hero you could think of. And he was in trouble!

So, you climb out of bed, red pajama pants dragging on the floor as you shuffle out of your room. The apartment was suddenly silent and dark. Yet red eyes scanned the hallway, searching for the offender. No one was going to hurt Bro. Bro was untouchable. Bro was… Bro was important. If someone was going to try to get to him, they were going to have to go through you first!

But no one was lurking in the dark living room or the kitchen. You tilt your head. That can only mean one thing: they were in Bro’s room. You look over at the door to the master bed room. The light was on and burning underneath the door, casting a bright yellow bar down on the carpeted floor. Heavy breathing could be heard inside and… was that crying?

Forehead creasing, you go and open up the door, squinting at the sudden brightness. You really think you should’ve grabbed your shades on the way out, but it’s too late for that. You blink a few times, adjusting, and you see Bro there.

His muscular, strong form is heaving, pale, he’s sitting up on the edge of the bed. He seemed to be crying, which made you want to cry, too. But you knew you couldn’t do that. He didn’t notice you as you let yourself inside, closing the door quietly (just in case someone actually was lurking around here). You don’t know how to approach him, maybe just go up to him and hug him? No, he’d probably just get startled. 

So you climb onto that big ol’ bed of his, head tilted as you watch him. He’s stopped crying, more likely than not because he feels you behind him.

“Bro?” You ask quietly, a pale little hand extending to touch the older man’s back, red eyes watery. “Are you okay…?” You’ve never seen your brother cry.

Not once.

“Bro.” You say again. “It’s okay.” You feel tears break down your cheeks, streaming gently towards the base of your chubby little-kid face. “Please don’t cry.”

He turns to face you, not saying anything. His brilliant amber eyes are bloodshot and glassy, and suddenly your Bro seems ages older than he actually is. His shades. His shades were off. Bro’s shades were off. He was… Bro was exposed.

And he was okay with it, too.

He cracks a smile. A somewhat forced and wry smile, but a smile nonetheless. He seems to be taking you in, with your thermal and red pants that are just a bit too big for you, kneeling right behind him on his bed. He gives a small nod.

“I’m okay, lil’ man.” Bro said, his deep voice thick with tears. “I promise. Go back to bed, okay?” This puts a pout on your face. 

“No.” You say. “I’m staying here.”

You tug your teary-eyed brother up onto the mattress and let out a little ‘agh’ noise at the effort. But you get him on there. Laying straight across it and his legs kind of dangle off the side of the bed but you don’t care, you wrap yourself around him in the best way your scrawny little form can manage, nuzzling into the back of his head. Your forehead brushes against the spiky hair, taking in his smell. You can’t help but smile.

“What if you need me again?” You say softly. Bro doesn’t reject you. He doesn’t tell you to seriously fuck off, kid; he lays there. He lays there and keeps crying, and you keep yourself around him because, well. You suppose that superheroes don’t always feel super, right? Just like normal people don’t always feel normal. Bro was a superhero. He was brave and strong and kept you safe, just like a superhero should.

Bro was your superhero, if not anyone else’s.

And you were his.


End file.
